The Billionaire And His Fake Wife

d, the glow of my laptop screen illuminating the small space. I uploaded the video from the party to a secure cloud server, along with the photo of the

ncy, creating a timeline of the fraud, when a s

tative knock of housekeepi

ood outside. My first thought was that Detective Riley had sent them, but something

ving the chain on. "Ca

a badge. It looked real enough a

a

nd emotionless. He slid a folded document through the opening. "You're to

s signature. Another forgery, I was certain. They were trying to

s," I said calmly. "The woman wh

rd face, spoke up. "We also have a warrant

operty?" I asked, my voic

he slight hesitation when I questioned them-it all screamed fake. This was an intimi

I said, feigning resignation. "Le

tly pressed the record button on my phone, which was already set up. I also casually

" I said, holding up my

ake your call from the station." He to

ping back. "I'll m

n fact, I think I'll call the station directly. Just to

wed. "We don't have time for th

of their officers are serving a fraudulent restraining order," I said, my thumb hoverin

ok. A flicker of panic cro

ne said to his partner,

w the ga

I had already dialed. I

olice, Sergeant

froze, their faces

Motel, room 204. I have two men here impersonating police officers, attempting to intimidate

pen door. Without another word, they turned and bolted. They

ning the situation. "I have a video recording of the en

ial police address. I described the men, their vehicle-a black sedan I'd g

, forging court documents-that required resources, connections. This was an organized syndicate. They had underestimated me. They thought I was just some det

ampaign, the fake cops. It was all connected. They weren't

ce I was compiling. This wasn't just a fight